PEEPS AT GREAT FOLKS.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVI, Issue 10066, 6 February 1909, Page 3 (Supplement)

PEEPS AT GREAT FOLKS.

(The Weekly Scotsman.) . There are few things of 6uch perennial interest to the reading public as tittletattle about great men. This is the basis of the popularity of the innumerable books of memoirs and reminiscences, which have been published during the last few years. Among these a prominent place -will be. found for Mr K. C. Lehmann's "Memories of Half-a-Century," just published by Messrs Smith, Elder, and Co., London. .This book is avowedly a "record, of friendships" and, as might be expected from one who is an M.P., and connected with the Chambers family, the "•friends" comprise many men and -women eminent in the different worlds of letters, politics, and art. The book is composed principally of extracts from the correspondence of his parents.. Distinguished men, it is well known, have been .remarkable for. their great weaknesses as well as for their gTeat virtues. An illustration of this is given by Mr Lehmann in his account of the final rupture between Browninsr and John Forster, the well-known editor of the Examiner. For quite a long time they had been the most intimate of friends. Forster, it appears, had, during many years, prepared all Browning's work for the press,, but, remarks Mr Lehmann, quoting from one of his father's letters, "however valuable such aid and interference may have been to Browning while he was living in Florence, it may liave become irksome when Browning took up his domicile in London. Forster exercised a kind of patent-right or ownership over Browning. It -was an understood thins that on"Sundays Browning had to dine"\vith Forster, and that anyone wanting Browning to dinner on Sundays coma onlv secure him after some diplomatic negotiations, of wliich one of the fundamental conditions was that Mr and Mrs Forster were to be invited together with Browning. Forster- was kind but oonderous; Browning was nervous and sensitive, and had, no doubt, grown restive under this kind of literary bear-lead-ing. There may have been other combustibles, but at any rate a mere nothing brought about a sudden and violent conflagration. "At a dinner at the house of my brother-in-law, Mr Benszon, Browning andForster began to nag at each other, and so continued for some time till Browning spoke of the incredible neglect which had lately occurred at Marlborough House, where, when the Princess of. Wales.had taken suddenly very ill, no carriage could be got for the purpose of fetching a doctor. Forster at once ridiculed the story as a foolish invention. Browning gave chapter and verse, adding that he had it from Lady . Forster retorted that he did not believe it a whit more on account of that authority. Suddenly Browning became very, fierce, and said, "Dare to say one word in disparagement of that lady"—seizing a decanter while he spoke—"and I will pitch this bottle at your head." Forster seemed as much taken aback as the other guests. Our host, who had left the room with Sir Edwin Landseer, on his return at this moment found Browning standing up in sreat anger, with a decanter in his hand ready for action. He had the greatest difficulty in realising the situation. 1 soon made him hurry everyone from the room, but all attempts to bring about an immediate apolosy or reconciliation were in vain. A kind .of peace was, however, patched ud before Forster's death. Another scene of a similar nature was enacted between Sir Edwin Landseer and Sir Alexander Cockburn, formerly Lord Chief Justice, who used to quarrel so often with his friends that Milais once said of him, "You should never have that man on your premises without having the fire-engines ready to act." Theincident referred to occurred when Mr Lehmann's father was giving a dinner to some friends during, his residence near Muswell Hill, about six miles out of London. Landseer and Cockburn were two of the guests. "When the ladies had left the tables someone spoke of Shakespeare, and Landseer remarked that even Shakespeare had made some mistakes, for in 'As You Like It,' he makes a -poor seauestered stair' shed 'big round tears.' 'Now,' said Landseer, 'I have made stags mv especial study, and I know for a fact that it is quite impossible for them to shed tears.' Most of us were inclined to accept this statement as a curious and innocent Shakespearian commentary, but Cockburn suddenly startled us by turning upon Landseer and asking him in a loud voice, 'And don't you "think you are committing a most unwarrantable impertinence in criticisms: Shakespeare';' "A bomb exploding in our midst could not have created greater dismay than this violent and unexpected exclamation. Poor Landseer, tho most sensitive of mortals, turned pale; Cockburn continued to glare at him. and all "I could do was to break up the party and bundle my quarrelsome ruc-sts into the garden. Cockburn joined the ladies, while Landseer remained with the rest of us. almost .beside himself with anger at this churlish and unprovoked attack. Now came a great difficulty. How was Landseer to be got home? We were some six miles out of town, it was a Sunday evening, and no cabs were to be had for love or money. I therefore made every imaginable effort to bring about a reconciliation. With this view I entreated Landseer to forget and forgive. 'Remember, Sir Edwin,' I Baid, 'that long after he has joined all the other Lord Justices and is forgotten, your name -will remain as that of tho greatest English painter of this or any other age.' 'That's true,' replied Sir Edwin, 'and I am willing to make it up and ride home with him, but.' he added, 'begad, sir, he had better know that if he begins again. I am the man to set down, take off my coat, and fight him in the lanes.' All attempts, however, to conciliate Sir Alexander were in vain. When I told,him that Landseer was willinz to shake hands and to go home with him, "he shut me up by replying curtIv, 'I will not take him.' He drove away alone, and we got one of. the other guests to give Sir Edwin a : lift home." More easily explained and less disastrous in its consequences is a : stpry told by Mrs Proctor of a betise laid to the account of ChaTles Lamb. She says he "dined here on Monday at five, and by seven he was so tipsy he could not stand, Martin Burney carried him from one room to another like a sack of coals. - Ha insisted on sayins, 'Diddle,, diddle,, dumpty, my son John.' He slept until ten, and then woke more tipsy .than before; and between his fits of bantering Martin Burney kept sayins. Gor, I'll never enter this cursed .house a<*ain.' He wrote a-note next day. begging pardon, and asking when he misht come again," . ~ . Thackeray, as might he expected, had his own way of expressing his likes and dislikes. .A curious, instance is given by Mr Lehmann's father referring to an-occa-sion. when.they had supped together at Lord Murray's" after one of the great novelist's readings'. • "When the party was over I was in the hjjll with Thackeray, supplying him , with ,a cigar, and on the point of opening the door for our departure, when we' were stopped by the fpllowerotesque. incident. - All the pther;.guests had left before us. We. heard .whisperings on the landing above. . Lord Murray, on hospitable thoughts intent, was evidently consulting his cara sppsa before inviting the great man to dinner. Heavily old Lord Murrav descended the stairs; but before he had got halfway down, or even opened his lips, Thackeray stopped him by exclaiming, 'You are very good, my lord, but 1 atrt unfortunately engaged every day of mv-. stay here.' Then ho opened the door,"and we left :a. tableau of dear old Lord Murray speechless on the stairs, looking up at his wife." With Charles Dickens Mr Lehmann's father was more intimate. It was he who introduced him in .1861 to Lord Lytton, then Sir Edward. Buller. His "Reminiscences''contain a Remarkable, pen portrait of this distinguished writer as his guests used to find him at Knebworth. He "used to go about all day in the most, wonderful old clothes. He, stooped very much, and in.his frayed, untidy suit.Jpoked at leastseventy years old. At dinner time, however, a Wonderful change took place in him. It was as though he had taken a draught of 6ome elixir. He appeared in evening dress as,spruce, as possible, and seemed to.' have left about twenty years of his age in his bedroom -with his ancient garments. During dinner he was animated and most interesting. His wine -was claret, a bottle of wliich stpod beside him, and as soon as experience" had taught me that this bottle contained, the only winethat was' good to drink, I contrived to make him «hare it with me. Immediately

after dinner he smoked a large chibouk. We then used to adjourn to the library, a noble room containing fine family portraits.: ■ -o- -'■ ■:..-<■■■• "Our host's conversation was most fascinating. In a large' party his deafness prevented him from joining freely in the general conversation, but in the midst ol a few friends willing and eager to listen, no talk could have equalled his. He was essentially what I call a monogolist, but Dickens—the only man who could perhaps have disputed the supremacy with him—used to call him the greatest conversationalist of the age. At about eleven o'clock the power of the elixir seemed to wane-; he became again a bentold man, his talk flagged, aad he faded away from us to his bedroom, where it may be he sat down to work, for he was the most industrious of men, and was aid often to write half the night through." Mr Lehmann's mother was very intimate with George Eliot, and used to- spend many.happy days with the Leweses'in the early sixties. "We are sworn friends," she -writes. "What a sweet, mild, womanly presence hers is—so soothing, too, and .elevating above all. It. is impossible to be with that noble creature without feeling better. I have never known anyone like her, and then her modesty, her humility. A modesty, too, that never makes you awkward, as many modesties do. 1 am full. of her. She makes a great impression on. me, and I long to see more of her, and be with her." Similarly her husband writes : —"George Eliot was a very fair pianist, not gifted but enthusiastic, and extremely painstaking. I used to go to her every Monday evening at' her house, always taking my violin witli me. We played together every piano and violin sonata of Mozart and Beethoven. I knew the traditions of the best players, and was able to give some hints, which she always received eagerly and thankfully. Our audience consisted of George Lewes only, and he used to groan with delight whenever we were rather successful in playing some beautiful passage. Sow that both he and George Eliot are no more, the scene is to me a strange, sad, and. unique memory." "Thev were kind enough," he continues in a passage where he makes a reference to one of Tennyson's well-known traits, "to ask me and my wife to join in a very small audience, invited to hear Tennyson read his poetry at their house. I had at first some little difficulty in accustoming myself to his very marked northern dialect, but that done I.thoroughly enjoyed the reading. He would interrupt himself every now and then to say quite naively, •.We have now come to one of my bestthings. This has been tried before, but not successfully,' and so on, acting throughout as his own not quite impartial Greek chorus. He read 'The Northern Farmer,' and almost the whole of 'Maud.' AVe were spell-bound, and lie seemed to enjoy it so much that his son had at last to make him stop by reminding him of the lateness of the hour."'